Those weapons had better be there ...

It's like a nudge in the ribs, except delivered electronically. "Come on then cleverdick," goes this particular species of email, "where are these famous weapons, then? The war's been over a whole fortnight, and you haven't turned up a single drum of anthrax. It was all a great big lie, just as we always suspected. Admit it."

Well, Tone obviously still expects them to appear. "Before people crow about the absence of weapons of mass destruction, I suggest they wait a little bit," he said yesterday. And it's true that any assumptions about hidden dumps and secreted stockpiles are a little premature. Even so there are some on my side of the argument - particularly in the States - who are now suggesting that it doesn't much matter whether any tubs of anthrax are ever found, given the great and rather wonderful fact that just about the worst regime in the world is now extinct. "Only rejoice!" they seem to say.

But it won't do. I was never in favour of this war mainly because of the threats of terrorism or WMDs. Getting rid of Saddam (and therefore the myriad afflictions of the Iraqi people) was enough. But the weapons were the pretext on which the invasion was sold to a lot of people in this country, and was attempted to be sold to the people of the world. The British dossiers, released last autumn, claimed that Iraq had continued to produce chemical and biological weapons, drawn up military plans for their use, retained illegal missiles capable of carrying WMD warheads, and concealed equipment from the weapons inspectors.

At the United Nations in February, the US Secretary of State, Colin Powell, presented evidence claiming that there were mobile laboratories and showing clear signs that the Iraqis had moved material to escape inspection from UN teams. Put together, all this was argued as constituting a clear breach of UN resolutions that therefore required urgent action.

These claims cannot be wished away in the light of a successful war. If nothing is eventually found, I - as a supporter of the war - will never believe another thing that I am told by our government, or that of the US ever again. And, more to the point, neither will anyone else. Those weapons had better be there somewhere.

They probably are. But there's yet another matter that erodes trust between the public of the US and Britain and their governments when it comes to the war. How come Saddam was a man of evil from 1991 up to his political obliteration this month, but was a man who you could do business with for eight years before that?

Last week, following the surrender of Saddam sidekick Tariq Aziz, Donald Rumsfeld reflected that he was unsure whether Aziz should be treated as a prisoner of war. "He wore a uniform and a pistol whenever I met him," Rummy reminisced. And Rumsfeld, as the contemporary photos attest, wore a smile.

Back in December 1983, as Ronald Reagan's Middle East envoy, Rumsfeld went to Baghdad to unfreeze relations with the Ba'ath regime. There, Saddam (Rumsfeld told the New York Times), "made it clear that Iraq was not interested in making mischief in the world ... It struck us as useful to have a relationship." Rumsfeld returned to Baghdad in March, at around the time that the Iraqis began using chemical weapons against their Iranian enemies. True, the US protested. But it did nothing, except sell stuff.

It was all about constructive engagement, particularly if the alternative was an Iranian victory. But even when the Iran war was over, the Americans were being friendly. National Security Directive 26, signed by the first President George Bush on October 2 1989, said: "The United States government should propose economic and political incentives for Iraq to moderate its behaviour and to increase our influence with Iraq." After the first Gulf war, the former ambassador in Baghdad, David Newton, defended this stance. "Fundamentally," he said, "the policy was justified. Our long-term hope was that [Saddam's] government would become less repressive and more responsible."

Well it didn't happen. It was a mistake, and one that some CIA operatives say they warned the state department against at the time. And the Iraqi people have paid for this mistake - and those particularly of the French and Russians - a thousand times over. But (and I concede that I may have missed it) I have yet to hear a significant figure from those Aziz-hugging years, whether Rumsfeld, George Bush Sr, or anyone from the Thatcher government, owning up to the error.

Right now, over in Beijing, the entire population, apparently, is sitting indoors, terrified to come out. The government's attempt to re-assure them that Sars is not about to kill them all, has been met by a cynicism, which derives from earlier lies about the scale of the epidemic. At this moment, when the authorities are telling the truth and need the people to trust them, no one does. So I repeat, those weapons had better be there.

My pet hates: the response

Many thanks to readers for the dozens of emails sent in response to last week's plea for help. The objects of my ire were, if you recall, ear-splitting music played in convertibles, overflowing skips and barging joggers.

Several of the suggestions for dealing with men in convertibles, struck me, I have to say, as 1) Disgusting. 2) Impractical. And 3) Disproportionate. It is hard enough to imagine walking around Hampstead with a super-soaker in the first place, but filled with fresh urine? I preferred Pete Moss's idea that, dribbling slightly and not in an aggressive way, one might just climb into the back of the offending car, singing along to the music loudly and out of tune. On what I am told is called "passive jogging", the notion that struck me as most effective was that of suddenly crying out to the dangerous jogger, "Hey - it's you!" and pretending to recognise them. The author says: "The jogger will be forced to stop for a brief second which will deeply disturb them. Then, you say - "oh, never mind."

There is some evidence, however, that some of you are only just holding it together. Professor AS Milton tells me that in Cambridge's narrow Silver Street, when French tourists approach three abreast: "I don't stop but continue walking with my shoulder thrust forward, and let them end up in the road." And Tony Moon reveals that his pet hate is, "those people who do not cross roads at pedestrian crossings in a straight line but amble across diagonally".